Fixation
by Jin-Chan16
Summary: I was bored, that's all there was to it. I didn't ask for him, I could've done everything all on my own. I was fine with cynical, with bored. Why'd he have to show up and be my new addiction, my new fixation. Disclaimer: I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1

Hold my hand dear, watch me

move

Through the lines of deceit,

past

the ache of betrayal and

heartache.

Somehow you will be free

and

maybe you might

find

salvation in the arms of

love.

* * *

><p>In the Takahashi household, we are a moderately normal family consisting of myself, my brother and his expecting wife Minami. If you peer inside our window and watch us, we seem very caring about each other, lovely even. Breakfast and dinner always on the table at seven in the morning and six in the evening, a healthy family and a healthy meal make for a good table. We eat and converse and laugh sometimes, small talk and a decent meal put us to the television later. A mutual interest in Doctor Who plays and we watch for a little while, take turns using the shower in between commercial breaks and then go to bed. If you looked at us, you would see normality, nothing special about us, nothing unique or interesting. Just plain normal.<p>

We have normal expectations of one another, chores and such, I bring home some grocery money from my work at the small convenient store down the street. I keep my grades at a moderate B average, friends here and there find their way to me when they need me. A party, a buzz here and there, but nothing ever really interesting. Nothing new or exciting, just bland normal.

I watch everyone move, the slowness in their steps, the creases from frowns and smiles always leaving indents in their faces. Sometimes I wonder if all this boring bland normalcy will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Please understand, I don't mean to sound ungrateful or callous, but there's nothing truly worth living for. Everyday life turns to routine, routine turns to frustration, frustration turns to bottled resentment, resentment turns to madness. In the end, aren't we all just chasing our tails, hoping that something new and interesting will happen? I know this sounds terribly cynical, especially with how much opportunity I've been given with my parents' death, but I want more than just this never ending routine.

There has to be something better than this, right?

I think that as I open the door to mine and my brother's apartment, inside a grey haired stranger is embracing my brother, lovingly, longingly against the wall. My brother, smiling and laughing, is for a moment oblivious to me, but that stranger with grey hair and violet eyes locks into me instantly. Takahiro looks to the door where I am, and smiling ever so warmly, says, "Misaki, this is my friend, Usami Akihiko."

Is it natural to be attracted to someone so much older than you? Is it right to want to kiss him at first glance, to rip him away from your brother's arms and see what's behind a thick coat and dress shirt (and pants)? Is it sane to want to show a grown man what youth can do when the world isn't looking?

"He doesn't look a thing like you, Takahiro." His dismissive smirk grates my nerves and makes me want to show him who I really am.

Is it ok to find that annoying, agitating (and hot as hell)?

Yes, but that doesn't stop me from wanting him a little more.

* * *

><p>I wanted to twist the Romantica plot up a little, put some angst and drama in. It's been a while but I'm hoping you guys will see some improvement. Also, the poem up top is all mine, but I won't lie I was inspired by the format of Ellen Hopkins (best authorpoet ever). I've been reading her masterpieces lately and that's kind of what inspired me to write this, mostly the Crank series and Impulse and her newest ones Tricks and Perfect. Highly recommended books, you won't be able to stop once you start. Anyway, I will gladly take any suggestions my readers offer me, but please send it through via Private Message.

Thanks guys, and best of wishes in 2012!


	2. Chapter 2

With nii-chan's persisting, he soon became my tutor; with the exchange of my brother's cooking of course.

Please don't get me wrong, I'm not a slacker and though I've been a procrastinator at times, I'm not stupid. I understand that grades are important and that I need an education and excreta, excreta, excreta. However, even I deserve some slack now and again and need to make some mistakes and mess up to totally understand why it's important.

Fall flat on my face.

Then get up and try again and learn from my cuts and bruises. That's all. Maybe it's fate that made my brother find my hidden report card and flip shit. Now I get to see his best friend and get to know him. Maybe even better than his other friends. With deep embellished violet eyes, hypnotic and smoldering, who wouldn't want to delve deep into their irises and swim in lakes of soft silver hair. Sail through skin of creamy white ribbons that wrap around tight cords of well toned muscle and delicious looking abs, get lost in a jungle below his belt.

In my dreams.

That's where it all is really, dreaming of his eyes, his voice, his hair, his body, his assets. Wondering, about how firm he is, around the skin as well as his mind set in bed. Fantasize about thickness and length, not entirely talking about his arms and legs. It's all enough to start getting me excited when I get up to his apartment door, getting the key on top of the door frame and letting myself in.

This is what I would expect.

I did do my research, like I said, I'm not an idiot and I wasn't about to just come over to anyone's house. My best friend's brother or not. It's a spacious layout, two stories. The living room and the dining room are connected along with the kitchen, which is a dream and a half. It's quaint and the granite counters are sleek and stainless, cool to the touch, I'm almost tempted to jump up on them when a pile of books catch my eye. One is a blue bubbled hardcover, I remember seeing it in the stores and library, I remember it reminding me of the sea with its easy soft tones of blue and shading green. However, next to it…

Two boys, one holding another while the other looks up innocently.

It doesn't take me long to skim it, reading over the dialogue which could use some work, passing all the cheesy parts, to where in a hot steamy scene my brother's name comes up. So does Usagi-san's. He made himself and my brother the characters of his boy love book, loving each other in high school. Making love in the library. Kissing each other so passionately. There's a hot flash of rage that fires up inside of me, angry and bitter, maybe for all the wrong reasons. But that doesn't really stop me from wanting that.

Kissing passionately, embracing tightly, making love secretly.

That's all that comes to mind, flashing like fireworks exploding inside of my head as I find myself reaching his bedroom door. Without really thinking, I swing it open, a wonderland of toys reminds me vividly of a looking glass. There on a large kind sized bed, under soft silky sheets, his broad body rises and falls with every breath. I want to yell. I want to scream in his face that my brother is married. That he isn't and never will be available to him. I want to shout and rave because now when people read this, they'll think of my brother, my married, mediocre brother, and him. That makes me sick on the inside, makes me nauseous and angry. I guess that's because...

I want that to be me.

I don't yell, I stand in the door way, my shadow stretching across the floor to the opposite wall, where his bed stands in the midst of teddy bears and train tracks. He doesn't stir from the light pouring in, or my shadow that seems to be oh so perfectly still. Good for me. I take a step into the wonderland, carefully maneuvering over scattered plush bears and plastic trains before reaching his bed. He doesn't stir as I slide my knee onto the mattress, cool fibers dipping with the pressure of my weight, my other knee soon following, but already I was close to his body. I moved carefully, shifting my weight from one knee to the other as I shuffled closer to him, with a swift swing of my leg I was straddling his waist. His face was peaceful, almost childlike in the shaded lighting coming from the hallway, I could imagine him as a kid for a moment, innocent, sweet, needy. However, he breaks it as his brow furrows his brows and his eyelids flutter.

His eyes open, aristocratic eyes surprised, and I want to make those stupid fantasies real.

"What the fuck!" I grab his hands and pin them to the sides of his pillow, he struggles and I know I have to talk fast before he overpowers me. Before I can get a word out, he flips me and gets me in the same position, only more secure, only stronger. "What in the hell are you doing?" His voice makes me flinch but I look up at him with fearlessness, not afraid as he glares down at me. Maybe it's my hormones, maybe it's because it's him, but I start to notice his broad chest is pressing down on my stomach, his hips on mine…

If I could, I would make him beg and writhe and cry in pleasure.

"I saw your book." His brows furrow deeper, I can see the resentment creeping up in his eyes when I ask, "Why my brother, he's married, he's going to be expecting a kid soon, he's happy with his life right now, so why him?" He doesn't answer right away, he remains still and searches the features of my face, my eyes, for mockery, for distrust, for disgust. "He won't love you, even if you did confess your feelings to him, he's in love with his wife. I don't know how long you've publicly lusted over my brother, but I think it's about time to let go of that fantasy." His hair shadows his eyes, but I can feel the hurt piercing through him, maybe this isn't the first time someone's told him this.

If I could, I would hug him and hold him and cry with him.

"Shut your mouth," his voice is weak, "you don't know anything, you're just a stupid kid." I almost want to laugh, but now wouldn't be the time. I watch as he, this beautiful man, trembles and quakes at the truth in my words. It almost makes me wonder if I could write too. "You've never been in love, you've never felt these feelings. The want and yearning that I feel. So who are you to tell me who he will love in the end?" He grips my arms tighter, and against my own protest, I don't cry out in pain. I watch as his eyes meet mine again, his are watery now, violet drowning in clear salty water against the white of his eyes, it reminds me of a canvas and for a moment I almost expect his tears to be purple.

The truth might not set him free.

I know this, I know that all too well, but still, looking into his eyes I can't seem to say anything but the truth, "I'm his brother. The one who grew up with him, who knew him, who loves him as a guardian, I'm his little brother." He wants to scream at me, wants to hurt me, wants to shake me so hard that I repent my words. But in the same breathe, he want to be held, to be comforted, to be cared for, to be loved. He knows my brother won't do that for him, will never for him.

But maybe I can.

* * *

><p>Sorry it's late, ACT is coming up and I've been super busy. But I'm going to try a lot harder to get more chapters out really soon. Please tell me what you think, my English teacher says my writing has gotten a little more mature and feedback from you guys would be spectacular!<p>

Happy Valentines Day!


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